


idiot on the bridge

by sunken__ships



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Rated T for language, Secret Relationship, at some point after beyond idk don't think about the canon too much, bones is a mother hen, jim is an adrenaline junkie, jim is just stupidly in love with his vulcan bf, yes vulcans purr what about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26942119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunken__ships/pseuds/sunken__ships
Summary: Jim allowed himself a moment to imagine being in a better place. In bed. With Spock. Feeling Spock’s heartbeat under his palm, tucking his face into the crook of Spock’s neck, listening and feeling the soothing hum of Spock’s happy purring.He sighed. “Babe, could–”Wait, fuck, shit, shit.“Uh, Sp– Mr Spock, would you be able to check if I left my PADD in the mess hall, by any chance?”In the few seconds that Jim had corrected his mistake, the bridge had gone very still and very quiet, and Jim felt his face growing very hot.When things get boring, Jim gets tired. And when Jim gets tired, he makes some small mistakes.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 16
Kudos: 429





	idiot on the bridge

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic I've posted to this account in over two years omg  
> anyway spirk will always always have a special place in my heart. it's about the yearning. it's about the hands. it's about the aliens and space. also i'm watching tos for the first time.  
> i tagged this as aos bc aos was my first intro to star trek/spirk and so it's how i always picture them in fic, but you can picture tos too if that's ur thing! i just really love the thought of jim calling spock 'babe'. enjoy xx

Jim rubbed at his eyes, fruitlessly trying to wake himself up more, as he headed to the bridge for his first shift of the day. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before – he sometimes found it hard to sleep when he’d had a monotonous day, and yesterday had been boring as fuck – but a captain was expected to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed no matter what, so he hoped he had enough energy to keep up the facade for the next God knew how many hours.

The elevator arrived, and Bones was in there, looking a little worse for wear himself. “Morning, Bones,” Jim grunted. He went to press the button for the bridge, but found it already pressed. “What are you heading up to the bridge for?”

“To give you this,” Bones said, holding a vial out to Jim. “Good morning, by the way. Not that it feels like it.”

Jim took the vial. It was filled with a green liquid, and had a dropper lid. “Feels like what, a good morning?” He lifted the vial to his eyes, turning it this way and that. “What is this?”

“It doesn’t feel like _morning_ ,” Bones grumbled. “Even with the regulated lighting, day and night start to feel the same when you’ve been on your feet for damn near twenty-four hours.” He nodded to the vial. “Sleeping serum. Just for when you need it. You put a drop or two into a glass of water half an hour to an hour before your head hits the pillow. I meant to give it to you yesterday, seeing as shit-all happened yesterday and I know you can’t sleep when you haven’t had some godforsaken heart-stopping adrenaline rush at some point during the day–”

Jim rolled his eyes, and the elevator reached the bridge. Bones followed him as he walked out and started passing out _good morning_ smiles to his crew.

“–and, judging by the bags under your eyes and the fact that you haven’t even tried to interrupt me yet, mapping out literal previously unchartered space doesn’t give you the thrill you need to get some shut-eye. So. Sleep serum. You’re welcome.”

Jim reached his chair and turned to face Bones, and then, keeping his eyes locked on Bones’, reached over and pressed the hailing button on the arm of his chair. “Lieutenant Chapel, this is Kirk, do you copy?”

Bones frowned. “What–?”

A reply from the comms: “Affirmative, Captain.”

“Dr McCoy is hereby under strict orders not to return to the medical bay for the next eight hours–”

Bones’ eyes went wide with indignant rage.

“–and is confined to his quarters to get some proper rest, as I have been informed he has been working for almost twenty-four hours straight, which is against regulation. And we can’t go against regulation, can we, Lieutenant?”

Jim shot Bones a shit-eating grin.

“Jim, you son of a–”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Lieutenant Chapel replied, and Jim could hear the amusement in her tone.

“Glad we’re on the same page. Should you or any of the other medical staff see Dr McCoy in medical bay for any reason other than to be treated himself within this time period – and don’t accept any loopholes he may come up with – report to me immediately, understood?”

“Understood, Captain.”

“Good. Kirk out.”

Jim ended the communication, and patted Bones on the cheek. “Get some rest, Bones.”

“‘Against regulation’ my ass,” Bones growled, as Jim plonked himself in his captain’s chair. “I have patients down there who need–”

“You have an entire medical staff,” Jim cut in. “You’re the best of the best, Bones, but your staff will be able to handle things for a few hours.” He raised his eyebrows at Bones. “You’re welcome.”

Jim didn’t hear Spock approach the chair, but he was used to his boyfriend’s cat-like grace, so he wasn’t surprised when Spock spoke from just behind his shoulder. “If I may interject, Doctor–”

“You’re going to anyway,” Bones snarked.

“–surely your patients would do nothing but benefit from your much-needed rest. A human cannot perform at a level required of a senior officer after working without reprieve for twenty-two-point-seven hours, and, additionally, they require at least eight hours’ sleep within each twenty-four-hour period in order to function optimally. As a doctor, I would have thought you would understand the risks of doing otherwise. But, even if you did not, your captain has given you orders, to which you must comply.”

Jim felt a swell of affection, and he wished he could thread his fingers through Spock’s and press a kiss to the back of his hand. Or at least touch the tips of his fingers to Spock’s skin, so Spock could feel what Jim felt.

But, alas, they were on the bridge. Jim always felt particularly cuddly when he was tired.

Still, the _fuck you, Spock_ look on Bones’ face was worth it.

“Since you’re so into technicalities,” Bones said through gritted teeth, “you’ll know that the captain hasn’t actually given me _any_ orders. All he did was tell _Christine_ that he had. But he didn’t actually give them to me.”

“If even I could understand the implications of the captain’s message to Lieutenant Chapel,” Spock replied smoothly, and Jim was doing a poor job of hiding his grin, “then I believe you are using semantics purely to…” There was a pause, and Spock said, “Captain, could I defer to your expertise on commenting on Doctor McCoy’s questionable behaviour?”

Jim actually laughed out loud at that. “Oh, why, yes you can, as a matter of fact. Bones, you’re being difficult and contrary. Please go and sleep.” He held out the small vial that Bones had given him. “Here you go – use this. And you can return it to me in eight hours.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Captain’s orders.”

Bones sighed heavily, and snatched the vile from Jim’s fingers. “If anybody dies because I’m not there, it’s on you,” he grumbled, and stormed towards the elevator.

“Love you too,” Jim called over his shoulder.

Spock stepped forward, and handed Jim a PADD with updates on everything Jim had missed. “Could I suggest perhaps speaking to Dr McCoy privately, at a later time, about his insubordinate behaviour?”

“He wasn’t being insubordinate,” Jim said, scrolling through the updates. “Maybe a little. But he was just tired and grumpy, and I took him off duty unexpectedly. He was just… reacting to it.” He shot Spock a smile. It was the first time he’d seen Spock in a few hours, and, as per usual, his stomach erupted with butterflies the minute they locked eyes. “And I think, between the two of us, we handled it well.”

“It should not require the efforts of both the captain and the first officer to force him to obey orders. Especially not on the bridge, in front of the crew.”

Jim reached the end of the list of unremarkable updates and handed the PADD back to Spock, deliberately letting their fingers brush, letting his emotions – fond exasperation (towards Bones and Spock both), exhaustion ( _I slept badly last night please let this go_ ), amusement and joy at Spock’s earlier quip (and a little bit of arousal), and, above all, love and adoration and admiration and _I want to kiss you_ and _I want to go back to my quarters and cuddle up with you and fall asleep to the sound of your purring while you brush your fingers through my hair_ – flood through him and into Spock.

Spock blinked at the surge, and instinctively pressed the backs of his fingers more firmly to Jim’s to prolong the contact, to get a better reading, as it were. Jim could see the instant Spock remembered that they were on the bridge, and quickly withdrew his hand.

The whole exchange only lasted a moment, maybe two, and it took another two or three moments for Spock’s cheeks and ears to be tinged with green.

“Perhaps we can table the conversation for another time?” Jim suggested. “When both Bones and I are a little less likely to butt heads?”

“Agreed,” Spock said. To anyone else, his voice sounded exactly the same as always, but only Jim could tell that he’d spoken in almost an abashed mumble.

Jim felt a thrill go through him, and gave Spock a firm nod. “Okay, then. Dismissed.”

Spock hurried back to his seat, and Jim resisted glancing over to stare at his ass.

_Focus, Jim. You’re on the clock._

He stifled a yawn, and shook his head. “Okay. Um. Sulu, what’s our trajectory?”

Jim realised quickly that it was going to be another boring day. It made him want to bang his head against a wall.

He tried not to let that on. Or the fact that he wanted nothing more than a nap.

After almost three hours of taking photos of empty space, or whatever they were doing, Jim returned from the mess hall with three cups of coffee balanced between his hands – one for him, one for Uhura, one for Chekov – and realised he’d left his PADD somewhere.

He handed out the two coffees and took a sip of his own, glancing around. The PADD was nowhere to be seen.

“What have you lost, Captain?” Chekov asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jim mumbled. He had a quick look around his chair, but it was half-hearted at best. He was too tired and too bored to look properly, but he really did need it.

He hoped he hadn’t left it in the mess hall. Oh, God, he didn’t want to have to go _all the way_ down to the mess hall and back again.

He allowed himself a moment to imagine being in a better place. In bed. With Spock. Feeling Spock’s heartbeat under his palm, tucking his face into the crook of Spock’s neck, listening and feeling the soothing hum of Spock’s happy purring.

Jim sighed. “Babe, could–” _Wait, fuck, shit, shit._ “Uh, Sp– Mr Spock, would you be able to check if I left my PADD in the mess hall, by any chance?”

In the few seconds that Jim had corrected his mistake, the bridge had gone very still and very quiet, and Jim felt his face growing very hot.

Then, somewhat softly, Spock’s reply. “Affirmative, Captain. It appears your PADD is in the mess hall.”

Jim cleared his throat and nodded, ignoring the delighted, knowing glances between the crew. “Very good. I will… go and get it. Thank you, Mr Spock.”

“Allow me, Captain,” Spock said, rising from his seat. “I will return shortly.”

Then he left. Leaving Jim to deal with his humiliating mistake on his own.

“Fucking bastard,” Jim muttered under his breath.

He sat in his chair, knowing his face was the same colour as Uhura’s dress, and took a sip of his coffee.

The bridge remained very still and very quiet.

Jim closed his eyes, and sighed. “Okay,” he said loudly, “whatever you have to say, say it now before Spock gets back.”

“You mean ‘babe’?” Sulu said.

“Is that Spock’s new official title now, sir?” Uhura said with sickly-sweet feigned innocence. “Will we all be required to refer to him in this way?”

“Should we expect to hear ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’ at any point today or in the near future?” Sulu said.

Jim rolled his eyes, but let the punches come as they may.

“How, er, confidential is this information?” Chekov said.

“By the way,” Uhura added, “Len already knows. I just told him.”

“And Scotty,” Chekov said. “And Carol.”

“Can you finally officially confirm that you two are an item?” Sulu said. “We’ve already known for months.”

Jim’s eyes went wide. “ _Months_?” he squawked.

“Sir, with all due respect, we are aware that Spock is a Vulcan,” Uhura said. “Your hand touches are not as subtle as you think they are.”

“I also accidentally saw you kiss one time,” Chekov said in a small voice. “A few weeks ago.”

“Well, shit,” Jim said, and his crew laughed.

He laughed as well, and shook his head. “All right, all right. Still no official announcements yet, but I guess we’ve done a poor job of hiding it, so take this as an _un_ official confirmation of what you seem to already know. That being said, I do not want this to become a point of gossip amongst the crew, and that’s an order. I made one little slip-up, but this is personal business, and I don’t want it to undermine me or Spock, especially when we’re working together. Understood?”

He was met with a chorus of confirmations, and he nodded and took a sip of coffee.

A minute or so later, Spock returned with the PADD, which he handed to Jim without a word. He seemed surprised – in his own way – that the giddy tension from earlier had dissipated, and everyone on the bridge was quietly working away.

He looked to Jim in questioning.

“They already knew,” Jim murmured, softly enough that no one else would be able to make out what he was saying. “Talk about it later, okay?”

Spock nodded, and went to leave, but Jim touched his forearm. “Hey.”

Spock stopped again, and Jim glanced around the bridge for wandering eyes – there were none – and then pressed his two fingertips to Spock’s.

Spock’s gaze softened, and Jim felt a gentle wash of pride flow from Spock into him.

Jim smiled, and let Spock go.

The day ended up being not so boring after all.


End file.
